


made foes lovers before, you've lost it all already

by theGirlNightwing



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Cheating, Infidelity, M/M, Rough Sex, heyo im john laurens in the place to be, my husband's cheating on me with his enemy, tjeffs is a slimy shit, yuuuuuuup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 14:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11738841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theGirlNightwing/pseuds/theGirlNightwing
Summary: prompt: “I never said I was a good person, but one can receive good advice from a bad person.“





	made foes lovers before, you've lost it all already

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caesar_salad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caesar_salad/gifts).



> alex is a dick yo don't cheat on your partners

It’s nearly 3am.

Alex glares at the offending clock, puts his head in his hands. He always ends up here.  _ God,  _ why _ does he always end up here. _

“Hey,” Thomas rumbles, rolls to face him and sits up, sheets pooling around his hips, just barely covering his dick. Alex doesn’t know why he bothers, considering said dick had been up Alex’s ass minutes before. “You’re thinking too loud,” Thomas says. He snakes an arm around Alex’s waist, pushes his hair over his shoulder, presses wet kisses to his neck. Alex shivers at the breath ghosting over the saliva left there, and goosebumps begin to raise on his arms. “I can hear you over my  _ own _ loud thoughts,” Thomas continues. 

“John’s expecting me,” Alex says stiffly, and Thomas pauses, surprised. The arm around Alex’s waist tightens, so he squirms a bit, until Thomas lets up. 

“Is he now?” Thomas resumes his kissing, sucks a bruise into Alex’s skin. “You left him waiting this long -”

“Told him I had a late business meeting,” Alex says. He carefully extracts himself from Thomas’ grip. “I need to be there when he wakes.”

“Hamilton,” Thomas purrs, but his eyes betray his frustration, “You clearly care for him. This isn’t an affair bred from a loveless marriage. So why the fuck are you here when you could be in bed with your dreamboat hubby, hm?”

Alex stares at him for a moment, mind scrambling to come up with an answer.  _ Why is he here? _ He breathes through his nose, rubs his temples.  _ Why is he here? _

Thomas’ lips twist into an expression of distaste. “Get out, then.”

Alex nods, gathers his clothes. “I’ll see you at the next meeting,” he says, voice devoid of emotion, but pauses at the door. 

Thomas sighs, flops back down with an  _ oof _ . “Are you going? Or staying? Because if you’re going I’d like to get started masterbating to the memory of you begging for my cock, and you standing there when you could be impaled on it is not -”

The door slams shut. There’s no evidence that Hamilton has been in the room, save for the semen on Thomas’ chest that he knows isn’t his. He drags his finger through it. Licks it off. He’s not worried - Hamilton will be back. This isn’t the first time he’s made that kind of exit.

* * *

“If you weren’t -”

“Maybe  _ you _ would be stupid enough to -”

“ENOUGH!” 

Alex and Jefferson both jolt back at the yell, turning to Washington with shock. 

“Sir -” Alex starts, but Washington cuts him off. 

“Hamilton, go back to work and _stop_ _arguing_ with people higher ranked in the company than you, it’s going to get you in trouble some day. Jefferson, Franklin’s been asking to talk to you, if you’d just -”

“Of course sir,” Jefferson says with a lazy smirk. He hops off Alex’s desk and ruffles his hair, much to Alex’s displeasure, before sauntering away. 

Washington sighs. “Hamilton -”

“Yessir,” Alex says stiffly, turning back to his computer. 

It’s not even an hour later that Alex gets an email from Jefferson’s secretary -  _ his goddamn secretary he doesn’t even have the decency to email him himself - _ asking for his presence in the bastard’s office. 

Alex slams the door open. “Fuck you,” He spits, and is shoved into the wall in return. He watches one of Jefferson’s shiny and ridiculously expensive shoes as it nudges the door closed, watches Jefferson lock it. “Strip and bend over my desk,” Jefferson snaps, and backs up. Alex scrambles to comply, not even bothering to think about the probable hundreds of office harassment rules this breaks. 

He barely notices the fingers, both of them too impatient to do much prep, and then Jefferson’s sliding home, stifling a moan into Alex’s back as he sucks and licks and  _ bites _ , picking up pace and pounding Alex into the wood. Alex grips the edge of it, grunts in time with Jefferson’s thrusts. The ring on his finger is a solid presence that reminds him of the  _ wrongness  _ of what he’s doing, but he doesn’t take it off. Doesn’t look at it either. They remain like that for a while, Jefferson moaning wordlessly as he takes and takes, Alex breathing steadily as he gives.

“Tell him,” Jefferson says suddenly. His hips don’t even stutter. “Your darling Laurens. Tell him you let me bend you over my desk at work, tell him what a goddamn  _ whore you are - _ ”

“Shut the fuck up,” Alex growls, shoves Jefferson off him, drops to his knees. “Shut the  _ fuck up don’t talk about him - _ ” He cuts himself off, jerks Jefferson off in front of his face. Jefferson moans, thrusting into the grip.

“You want me to come on you? Cover your face with my release,  _ mark you as mine - _ ” his movements stutter, and then he’s coming, all over Alex’s face and into his open mouth. “Fuck,” he says quietly, yanks Alex up so he’s leaning on the desk, returning the favor even as he stares at the mess on Alex’s face, rubs his thumb there like he’s trying to force the liquid into Alex’s skin. It brings his Rolex right into Alex’s field of vision and his hatred flares at the unnecessary flashiness of it. 

Alex doesn’t take long to hit his climax, not with Jefferson’s heated, possessive stare, not with the feeling of come on his face - degrading, disgusting - and certainly not with Jefferson whispering in his ear -  _ my little whore, desperate for any cock to fill you claim you split you in half, you’d spread your legs for anyone wouldn’t you? Let the whole office fuck you if you could get away with it -  _ and then he’s splattering Jefferson’s pristine grey suit with white, going boneless in his arms.

There’s a moment of quiet before Jefferson tugs lightly on Alex’s hair. “I wasn’t kidding,” he says, serious for once. “You need to tell him, Hamilton.”

“Fuck you,” Alex says, but there’s no heat behind it. “You’re a shitty person to take advice from.”

Jefferson snorts. “I never said I was a good person.” He yanks Alex’s head back, bites down on Alex’s collarbone to prove his point. “In fact, I quite  _ like  _ this little arrangement we have, since I get to fuck you into next week and be reminded of that every time you limp into a meeting - but think on it, hm? Tell him.” He pauses, and when he doesn’t get a response continues, “One can receive good advice from a bad person.”

Alex pushes away, grabs a tissue to wipe the jizz off his face. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says.

Jefferson watches him go and shakes his head slowly before sighing. He won’t listen. 

_ Ah well _ , Jefferson thinks.  _ At least I’ll get to fuck him again sometime soon. _

* * *

“Are you ready?” John calls up the stairs. There’s a slam that sounds like a body hitting the floor, and then Alex practically flies downstairs. John catches him, of course, stumbles back into the wall so Alex is pressing him there and  _ yup _ he can feel his dick take interest in this. 

“Sorry,” Alex says, breathless. “I, uh.”

“Tripped,” they say in unison. John smiles. “I could tell.”

Alex blushes deep crimson, and then he’s on the other side of the room and John can feel disappointment like a truck come and run him over. “We have to go!” Alex says hurriedly, and John sighs. He can’t argue with that. 

Their sex life has been lacking lately, though. Alex refuses to bottom - flat out  _ refuses  _ \- and while John’s fine with that he wishes Alex would tell him  _ why.  _ Especially since he isn’t super interested in topping and while John’s also okay with that it’d be nice to sit down and fucking talk about it. But Alex comes home with scratch lines and bruises sometimes, or a limp he tries to hide but John notices anyway. John’s tempted to pull Alex aside briefly, ask him what’s wrong, but there’s something in his eyes - something that he thinks is guilt and  _ fuck _ he doesn’t want Alex to confirm his suspicions but he needs to know… 

John hasn’t been more scared of one question in his life. 

They make it to the gala without any more awkward incidents. Dolley Madison - since she and her husband are the hosts - greets them with sharp eyes and a plastic smile that have both of them excusing themselves very quickly. They linger by the food table together, and Alex cracks a joke about Monroe that has John in tears and Alex is smiling at him, and it’s nice. This is nice. 

Nice things don’t last, apparently. 

“Hamilton,” comes a snide sneer from the other side of the table and John looks up to see Jefferson.  _ What’s he doing here? _ He wonders defensively for a moment, before remembering that Jefferson’s Alex’s boss so it probably makes sense for him to be invited to the same work gala. Probably. Jefferson barely glances at John before turning back to Alex, thin lips pressed tightly together in distaste. John bristles. “About that bill -”

“I don’t want to discuss that bill,” Alex says sharply. “We’re at a party, jerk. No work. Washington’s orders.”

Jefferson’s eye twitches. “You get nowhere by listening to your daddy,” he says. Both Alex and John scowl at the word. “What happened to all work and no play? Thought that was your motto.” He’s got this sickeningly sweet tone, leans against the table and nudges the toothpick-stabbed olive around in his drink. His posture suggests nonchalance but there’s tension there. A snake, coiled, ready to strike. 

John shudders just looking at him. 

Alex forces a smile. It looks more like a grimace. “Yeah, well, I went to the ER and got the stick up my ass removed. Maybe you should do the same.”

Jefferson hums. “I’m certain I felt something up there. Maybe you should get that checked.” He takes a sip of his drink, calculated. His eyes flick over to John, and there’s a knowing there, a glint like he has a secret John doesn’t.

John feels sick. He lets his gaze slide over to Alex, not wanting to believe what he heard - and is only mildly comforted by the absolute outrage he finds. “Fuck you,” Alex hisses, and throws his own drink into Jefferson’s face. Jefferson does nothing to stop him, just closes his eyes to avoid the worst and wipes the rest off with a napkin, pats down his fancy suit that probably costs more than Alex and John’s entire  _ house - _

Alex grabs John’s hand, pulls him away from the corner and the predatory smirk on Jefferson’s face, the smug satisfaction he’d probably find there if he cared to check. John’s almost numb, smiles weakly at the concerned gazes. His ring feels heavy. 

“He’s just trying to rile you,” Alex says, glares over John’s shoulder like it might reach Jefferson through the crowd of people between them. “I would never,  _ ever _ -”

“Alex,” John says, holds Alex’s face in his hands. It feels strange, almost like he’s not the one in control of his movements but he knows that’s ridiculous because who else would be but him but somehow he’s not and  _ focus. Focus _ . He stares into Alex’s eyes, breathes.  _ One. Two. Three.  _

Next thing he knows, they’re kissing. Melded together by their mouths, searing heat protecting from the cold gazes around them, the half-hearted attempts to socialize and network. But something’s not right, something’s missing… 

Alex pulls back, licks his lips. “John,” he rasps. “I love you. You know that right? I love you.”

“I love you too,” John says. He feels far away, blinks hard. Tastes the words.  _ Sour. _ “I’m going to - I’ll be in the restroom. Text me when you’re ready to leave?”

“Yeah,” Alex says. “Okay.” He watches John push through the crowd on his own, barely flinches when a colder hand rests on the small of his back. The owner steps up to Alex’s side, presses himself there. Squeezes his hand in a way that parts Alex’s ass and then rubs his fingers over the plug there.

“Infidelity isn’t a good look on you, Hamilton,” Jefferson says, dips his head low to murmur “greedy slut” in Alex’s ear. “This for me or your husband?” 

Alex turns abruptly, yanks himself out of Jefferson’s grasp, presses their fronts together. “Does it matter?” he grits out, feels Jefferson’s thigh nudge up between his legs and stifles a moan. He’s already half hard, has been for the past half-hour he and John had been there. 

_ John. _

Alex exhales shaky, closes his eyes when Jefferson retreats. “I need your cock in my mouth,” Alex says. Quiet, because he’s not fucking stupid, no matter what Jefferson insinuates. “I need you to fuck my face.”  _ I need you to make me forget his name and the goddamn guilt it makes me feel. _

Jefferson regards him carefully. “Follow me.”

* * *

Neither of them are particularly quiet people, so the room Jefferson shoves Alex into is far, far from the party and the guests who gossip about anyone behind anyone’s backs. 

“Whore,” Jefferson says, smug again. “On your knees.” 

Alex sends him a dirty look, strips quickly before he follows the orders he’s given. He tosses a little foil-wrapped thing in Jefferson’s direction, quirking his lips in a self-satisfied smirk. “Brought this for you, old man.” 

He sees the instant Jefferson realizes what it is, crushes the viagra in his grip and tosses it aside, anger clouding over his eyes. “Knees,” he spits. 

Alex goes willingly. He’s pissed him off enough to get what he wants. 

Jefferson doesn’t even bother undressing, just pulls his cock out and brushes it over Alex’s lips. “Open wide,” he says sarcastically, threads his fingers in Alex’s hair and  _ yanks _ enough for Alex to gasp and then choke from a mouthful of cock he hadn’t been expecting. “Good boy,” he coos, pulls Alex back and forth on his cock by his hair. Alex closes his eyes, relaxes his throat.  _ Let it happen. Sit back. Enjoy it. _

He tries to touch himself once and Jefferson stomps on his hand - Alex screams but it’s garbled by Jefferson’s cock, the sound not loud enough for anyone outside the room to hear, but enough for Jefferson to laugh. At least it wasn’t his writing hand. 

Jefferson pulls back and Alex chases after him with his tongue, earning a slap for his efforts. “On the bed,” Jefferson says. He sees Alex’s hesitation and sighs. “It’s a guest room, James lets me use it when I stay.” 

Alex had honestly forgotten Jefferson and Madison were friends. 

He gets on the bed, on all fours, wiggles his ass in Jefferson’s direction. “You gonna fuck me, or -?”

Jefferson follows, and Alex shivers at the rather ominous creak and dip of the mattress. The toy slides out of him, replaced with fingers that massage and prod much better than the hard unyielding plug. Alex moans, shoves his ass back further onto Jefferson’s fingers. “Please, fuck -”

“Getting there,” Jefferson says, still smug like the bastard he is. The fingers move away and Alex yelps when he’s knocked over. Jefferson lies down next to him, though, and he gets the picture. They groan in unison and Alex says  _ sir  _ voice breaking, pretty as fuck with his head thrown back, spine arching. “Move,” Jefferson grits out, and Alex does.

“Pretty pretty slut,” Jefferson coos, pushes hair off Alex’s sweaty sticky face. “God, fuck yourself on my cock, that’s it -”

“ _ Fuck,  _ sir -” Alex moans, clamps down hard when he does, feels them both edging closer to climax. 

Of course,  _ of course,  _ that’s when a small voice is heard from the door - “Alex?” John says, disbelieving and a whole lot of hurt. 

Jefferson laughs because  _ of course he does _ , grips bruises into Alex’s hips and comes with a groan, deep inside him where Alex wouldn’t even let John touch him. 

Alex curses, scrambles to get off, away from the slimy bastard, reaches towards John and says “it’s not what it looks like” but John zeroes in on his erection, the jizz dribbling down Alex’s thighs, the smug lounge Jefferson’s adopted. 

John scowls. “I may not be good at math, but I can put two and two together,” he says scathingly. “God. Jesus Alex, really? And  _ Jefferson?  _ Of all people?” He takes off his ring, flings it in Alex’s vague direction.

Jefferson catches it.

“I’ll get the divorce papers ready,” John says. “Oh, and one more thing.” He flips Alex off. “Fuck you, asshole.”

He slams the door, leaving Alex with words half-formed refusing to make their way out his throat. 

“I hate to say it, but -” Jefferson says, tosses the ring to Alex, who watches it fall to the floor with a clatter. Jefferson laughs again, nasally and disgusting and Alex still doesn’t know why he’s here, why he keeps doing this but he hates himself for it, hates how he’s hurt John who was genuinely the love of his goddamn life - and Jefferson had been the one to tell him to stop. Jefferson had told him to tell John, told him to come clean, and  _ fuck,  _ he hates the bastard for it. 

Jefferson tilts his head, smooths his hand through his hair and gives his cheshire-cat smile. 

“Told you so.”

**Author's Note:**

> hmu [the-girlnightwing](https://the-girlnightwing.tumblr.com/)


End file.
